Bounty
by ALilyPea
Summary: Lita has been doing her job for about 8 years, and since she'd begun it she had met some sick people, some people who needed a little humanity and some people who should be locked away for life. Now the Donavon's were back in town, and back to killing.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The phone was still ringing and I groaned. It was the fifth or sixth time this morning someone had called and I was pretty sure it was my boss who I definitely did not want to talk to right now, or anytime soon. My last case had resulted in my entire body being bruised and almost broken and I was definitely not ready for the next.

I drifted back to sleep, ignoring the ringing phone, one arm tucked under my pillow.

It was another hour before I jerked awake, the light in the hallway pouring into my room just enough for me to realize someone was standing near the door to the bathroom in my room. I shifted around, trying to act as though I was still asleep, my hand sliding under my pillow for my gun.

"Don't even bother," my sometimes partner told me. Daniels. God what a pain in the ass. It would be a hell of a lot easier to deal with him if he wasn't a hot pain in the ass. "I could kill you before you even get it out from under your pillow, which by the way is a horrible place to keep your gun."

I rolled over, sighed softly and turned on the lamp, automatically shielding my eyes before I did so.

"What do you want?" I asked him, shoving myself up halfway so that I could see him properly.

I hadn't seen him in six months, possibly more, not that I was counting and quite frankly was a little pissed at his come and go attitude.

Daniels smiled at me but it didn't reach his eyes. It didn't really surprise me, guy was about as warm as a fucking alligator and twice as vicious. He could kill a person without a moment wasted on a death roll.

"Maybe I missed you, old friend," he approached the bed, leaning down to peer into my eyes and I was proud when I didn't automatically jerk out of his way. Of course it had taken five years to get to that point.

"You don't miss a thing," I replied, both of us catching a double meaning in those words and I couldn't help but smile slightly. Maybe I had missed the bastard, maybe I hadn't but I sure as hell wasn't going to get all warm and fuzzy over him because he woke me up before noon on a day I was supposed to be able to sleep in.

Daniels grinned a wicked grin and leaned in, "oh I don't know." His hand grasped the blanket and I stiffened, forcing myself to sit perfectly still and not react to his closeness. Goosebumps rose on my skin and I resisted the urge to rub my arms.

"What do you want?" I asked, finally moving in order to flip my hair over one shoulder and glanced at him as I climbed out of bed.

"You've got a case," Daniels answered me, lazing back on his elbow on the bed, his eyes never leaving my form.

If I were modest I probably would have covered myself, but if the least he ever saw me in was a pair of men's boxers and sports bra I was lucky. Although knowing his penchant for sneaking into places he had probably seen me in a lot less and that was not something I wanted to think about right now.

"No I don't," I responded, grabbing my bathrobe and pulling it on. "I told Hunter I needed a break."

Daniels snorted, shaking his head. "You're going to want to take this one trust me," he told me making his way toward the door.

"What makes you say that?" I just couldn't resist asking and the bastard knew he had my attention in only a way he could. He knew just how to play with me, just how to manipulate my way of thinking and making me feel like I had to know something and by the glint in his eye he knew how much I wanted to know now even if I pretended not to.

"TheDonovan's are back in town," Daniels responded in a nonchalant tone of voice.

I whirled around immediately, approaching him quickly and grabbing his arm as though I could keep him from leaving, without even thinking. "What the fuck do you mean the Donovan's are back in town?"

"I mean theDonovan's are back in town, they got out of prison and they killed another girl," Daniels said it to me as though we were simply discussing the weather.

I resisted the urge to retch, remembering their last victim. A little girl. The Donovan's were twins, really sick fuckers who didn't have a single ounce of caring in their entire bodies. They were sadistic they were sick and they both loved me. I'd brought them in on their first offence, 1200 bucks a head for a robbery.

It wasn't long after they got released that they began killing. They had no actual motive other than their need to see people die, and no real common thread between victims. It was more like they killed out of boredom than anything else.

They were despicable, the lowest of the low.

They needed to be stopped.

"I'll be ready in five," I told Daniels, ignoring his soft chuckle and the look of triumph in his eyes as I headed for the shower, practically stripping off my clothing before I closed the door.

I slumped against the closed door, and shut my eyes, letting out a soft sigh as my muscles trembled lightly in fear. They fucking terrified me, the way they toyed with people, the way they hurt people without a second to think of how destructive they were in removing people from their loved one's lives.

But I couldn't imagine sitting by and having the rest of the firm going after them while being the only one sitting on the sidelines.


	2. Chapter 2

Daniels was pawing through my underwear drawer when I emerged from the bathroom and I had to resist the urge to cross the room and deck him.

I didn't really have a desire to be shot multiple times which was precisely what would happen to me if I were to do so.

"Nice panties," Daniels said, a thong hanging from his index finger and a smirk on his usually cold face.

"Sick fuck," I cursed him, snatching them from his hand and walked to the closet, stepping inside I was glad it was large enough to change in and did so, stepping out minutes later.

Daniels had moved on from the underwear drawer and had set out a variety of weapons for me on the bed. A butterfly knife, which was illegal in this state but whatever, my handy .45 and smaller calibre guns.

I went about working my holsters on, sheathing the knife first and then the guns before pulling on a well-worn denim jacket. "Where we headed?" I asked him as I slid my wallet into my pocket, and then tugged on my Doc Martins.

"The office," Daniels responded, rolling his eyes skyward as though I was an idiot. Wouldn't be surprised if he thought I was, compared to this guy a lot of people were.

I headed for the door, tense as I felt him at my back, after all it wasn't good to turn your back on people like Daniels.

They would sooner kill you than be kind.

It took ten minutes to get to the office, when normally it would take about 45. Daniels was a fucking demon in a car and I was still feeling green by the time I stepped out.

I could see from the cars in the parking lot that everyone was in. Looked like we were on high alert, although I'm not surprised.

I stepped into the office and went to say hi to Trish, the receptionist who sometimes worked on cases, noticing her face immediately clouded over when Daniels stepped in.

"Don't worry about him Trish, he's never around long," I told her as I stepped around her desk and walked back toward the office area, finding everyone in the break room.

"What's up kids?" Daniels greeted the assembled BH's with a small smirk, as his eyes glittered.

Yeah, fucking terrifying.

I could see out of the corner of my eye Jeff straighten up and tried not to smile. After all, two sadistic killers did not involve many happy moments.

"Oh good, you decided to show up," Styles spat as he leaned back in his chair and glared at me.

"Sorry boss," I dropped down into a chair and raised my legs, resting my feet in Phil's lap.

Phil glanced over at me and smirked lightly, resting his arm over my shins before he turned back to Styles.

Styles rose from his chair and held an envelope out to me, "This came for you, it's why I called. Maybe next time you should answer huh?"

I looked down at the envelope and felt my blood go cold. Red was all it said but there was really no mistaking the writing.

I swallowed heavily and opened the letter, taking a shaky breath I read it aloud.

"I don't know if you've heard by now but you probably have...

We're back in town, the two of us, and we were hoping you would join us for a little date, after all, you know that we adore you more than anyone.

Of course you could always refuse the date, it would make things fun for us.

We would wine you, dine you. But if you refuse us...

We've always wondered how close the red of your hair is to your blood...

Actually even if you agree to the date we'd be tempted to find that out.

Always yours,

Trent and Malcolm Donovan.

PS Do you still have the same apartment? Nevermind, we'll find out for ourselves."

My hands were shaking by the time I'd finished reading it out loud and someone was gripping my leg tightly. It took me a minute to realize it was Phil and when I looked at him his eyes sparkled with anger.

"Shit," Styles swore, shaking his head with a soft growl of anger.

"We always knew they had a thing for Red," Daniels commented, glancing around the room idly.

Jeff glanced back at him and then away. If he and Daniels got into it after all of this I didn't know what I would do, I was on the verge already. The nickname had soured too, and I felt the urge to never hear it again.

"Someone should spend the night with Amy," Jeff spoke out suddenly and I almost jumped at the sound of his voice, not used to him speaking.

"I'll do it," Daniels and Phil spoke at the same time and then turned to glare at each other.

Styles sighed and rolled his eyes, "Jeff you're right," he muttered the words, sounding disgruntled. After all this didn't seem like the kind of case which would get immediate funding and we would need money to catch the fuckers.

"So?" Jericho arched an eyebrow at Styles, waiting for him to make a decision as to who would stay.

"Daniels you stay outside the apartment, look over the perimeter, Phil you'll stay inside," Styles responded sharply. "Now, Jericho get on tracing the cell phones they contacted the Millers with."

"They called the Millers?" I asked, shocked. It was little Teresa Miller who they had killed in the first place.

"Yeah, and I'm amazed you're surprised," Styles responded, "it's not like they have any end to their depravity."

Jericho stood up a moment later and left the room in a hurry, clearly as eager to catch the sadistic twins as the rest of us were.

I rubbed one hand over my face, "and the rest of us?"

"Daniels, go check out the Donovan's bar, Phil stick to Amy like glue and drive around, go talk to the Millers. Jeff I want you to assemble surveillance for Amy's apartment and go over for the install. If Jericho gets finished you can take him with you," Styles instructed us all and then waved a hand as though to dismiss us.

I nodded my head and swung my legs around, standing up I wasn't surprised when Jeff wrapped me in an affectionate hug, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

"You'll be okay gorgeous," he told me before leaving the room.

"Of course she will," Phil said and smiled at me just slightly, one hand massaging my shoulder before he dropped it to his side.

"You sure about that?" Daniels challenged, his eyes alight with something I couldn't explain.

I turned to Phil, "we better get going then." I headed for the door, shoulders tight with tension as I did so. I didn't want to have to deal with this, but my flight over fight response had vanished long ago.


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Contains graphic depictions of violence, horrific imagery, mentions of murder of a child. Also, horrible language

Sometimes my life is a little too fucked up, even for me. And this? Well this was one of those moments.

Pinned against the wall of my apartment, feet dangling off the floor while a forearm is choking me, braced across my throat.

Now normally this would be my idea of a fun filled Saturday night, but when that forearm is attached to the arm of a convict who has an interest in beating his wife while jacked up on coke it's a shitty situation.

I'm getting ahead of myself though.

~Three hours earlier~

The Millers were a family who had been devastated by the loss of their daughter and I couldn't really blame her. She'd been a beautiful little girl, intelligent and funny.

I went to high school with her mom. Jesus, these were always the hardest interviews to do. Someone you knew, someone you liked and now here you were, talking to them about how their kid had been murdered and the people who did it were still running free.

Talia Miller looks just like she did in high school. Too much blonde and not enough colour, but yet there's something beautiful about her.

"Lita," she looks relieved to see me. Amazing all things considered. We'd not been friends but she was one of those people who was liked by everyone. Somehow it made everything about this crime seem worse.

Who the fuck would hurt someone who dedicated their life to saving lives?

"Mrs. Miller," the name falls off my lips and the stricken look on her face and Phil shifting at my side makes me realize I made a mistake. This isn't really a time for formality. "Talia," I start over, and reach out to squeeze her shoulder ignoring Phil's cough from beside me.

Yeah so I'm not good with physicality. He could go fuck himself.

"I'm so glad you're here," she tells me, and tears flood her eyes, spilling over. "The police have just left, your brother..."

"Yeah, I know," I say. "Do you mind if we come in? We're working the case too."

"I thought you would," Talia steps back, gesturing for me to step into the house. "I'll get some drinks."

"That's really okay Talia, we just want to get some details, if you don't mind," I tell her, wrapping an arm around her back, hoping to God and whoever else she doesn't notice the holster and gun at my side and steer her toward the living room. "Let's sit and talk okay? Is your husband home?"

"No he's g-gone out," Talia replies and sits down, gripping my hand now.

I look around the house as I sit. Nice place, definitely more than I could afford but when it's the home of two of the state's best surgeons you gotta figure it's gonna be pretty nice. Pristine actually, doesn't look like children even live her.

A child.

I look at the little girl, Hannah, she's beautiful in the pictures, always smiling and something about the image of her hugging her mom and both of them staring into the camera hardens me inside.

Reminds me too much of my own mother.

I shake those thoughts from my mind. "Now," I smile at her and hope it doesn't look as fake as it feels, hope the sympathy I feel for her shows through in some way. "We have the details from the police in a vague sense so we know the background but, as bad as this is, we need to know what they said to you on the phone."

Talia draws in a sharp breath and her eyes go hazy for a moment in remembrance before she answers, "it was awful," she murmurs the words looking down at her hands, one still grasping mine. "They told me she never stopped crying."

There's a special place in hell for people like this.

I glance over her shoulder at Phil and see he's looking over the house too, studying every minute detail and I know if I asked him to later he would be able to replicate it exactly in ink or pencil.

"Okay, I'm sorry Talia," I squeeze her hand.

"They told me she was beautiful, but that such beauty had to die. They told me to...to call you," Talia's voice is filled with fear.

My blood runs cold.

"What?" my voice is louder than intended and I don't realize it until I notice Phil has snapped around to look at me and Talia seems shocked.

"They said you could find them," Talia responds, swallowing heavily. "Please tell me you can Lita, I need to...I need them to pay for what they've done."

I find myself swallowing too. "I will," I promise and glare at Phil as he gapes at me, no doubt surprised by the resolute nature of my voice. "What else did they say?"

"Something about your life ending, they began when your life ended," Talia responds. "What does that mean?"

I lean back, and slide my hand from Talia's as I consider what that could possibly mean, a million possibilities sifting through my brain but only one truly sticking out. "Christ," I mutter, shaking my head and standing. "Do you have any pictures of Hannah we could take? It would really motivate the team and we would be able to question people in the neighbourhood where she was found."

She nods and makes her way to her feet, leading the two of us upstairs and Phil is so quiet as he moves along behind me I almost forget he's there. "What's your name?" she asks him as we're led into her bedroom.

Phil looks startled and licks his lips before replying, "Phil Brooks."

Talia nods her head, pulling out a photo album. "You went to Addison Heights too."

"Yeah, yeah I did," Phil replies, clearly surprised.

I was too. I was friends with Phil then and knew that most people didn't even remember him. If possible he was quieter then than he was now. Which basically meant, guy was mute.

"It's nice, that you work at the Agency too," Talia tells him before flipping through the album.

"Uh yeah, suppose so," Phil responds, eyes flickering before he looks around.

It's always amused me about how people talk about my place of employment like it's a government office, some secret ops facility instead of a bail bonds place slash private investigation agency. Although we do tend to bring in more bad guys than the police do most of the time, and Hartley has a lot of bad guys.

We don't end up leaving the house for an hour and a half more.

Phil doesn't speak again until we're in the car and halfway down the road, "she remembers me."

"People as nice as Talia remember everyone, it would be their shame if they didn't," I respond dryly, rolling down the window as my stomach turns. "Go to rail stop 7."

Phil glances at me out of the corner of his eye and in that minute I know I'm being analyzed. "You sure?"

"You heard what she said," I tell him.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean we have to go back there, man, Lita," Phil shakes his head. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"I don't care what you think," I snap. "We're gonna find these bastards and I'm gonna take pleasure in it."

Phil goes silent, but I can see his jaw tightening before he jerks his head in a nod.

It takes 20 minutes to get there.

The place my life ended, an old rail station on the outside of town which hasn't been in service for sixteen years.

Since a woman by the name of Maria was killed.

A woman I called mom.

I step out of the car and take a deep breath, looking around I don't spot anyone and a familiar car drives up.

Daniels gets out, his mouth twisted into a frown. "What the hell? We're supposed to be going to your place, and now you assholes change the plan?"

"Got done at Donovan's?" I ask him.

"Yeah, whole fucking family hasn't seen the twin, I'll believe that as much as I believe they aren't dealing coke under the tables and selling whores out the back door," Daniels grumbles.

I roll my eyes and walk over to the station, well aware of the two of them right behind me.

"What the..." Phil mutters as the sound of a train echoes in the distance.

I turn around, "no trains go past here anymore. It's unsafe."

"You say that but there's a car coming," Daniels points and sure enough in the distance is a singly lit car rolling our way.

I pull out my gun, "I bet it's them."

Daniels and Phil follow suit, the three of us approaching the car as it slows, ready to shoot the hell out of it if need be.

Phil hops on first, followed by Daniels who pushes me back despite my protest.

Turning Phil looks around, shaking his head, "nobody on it."

"Lita," Daniels pulls something off the schedule board, but Phil gets a look at it first and the shock on his face is enough to shake me to the core.

"What is it?" I ask stepping forward boldly.

Daniels hands it to me and I feel like puking. It's her. Mom. A note stuck to the photograph.

"We started with her," I murmur the words, anger filling me. "I'm going to kill them."

"They were 17 years old," Phil tells Daniels, disgust all over his face. "What now Lita?"

"I'm going home and I'm going to make a date," I tell them both before turning and walking out of the car, hopping down and heading for the SUV, my teeth gritted so hard my jaw hurts.

They killed her.

They killed her and a little girl. A mother and a child, just not the same family.

The ride back to my apartment is a silent one.

Phil doesn't speak and for once I think he doesn't even know what to say to me.

It isn't until we're in the hall he grabs my arm gently, "I should go in first."

"Fine, whatever," I reply, annoyed. I hate being treated like a child and with this case I'm beginning to feel like I'm being handled with kid gloves.

I step in right behind him and all of a sudden the world goes white hot as I register gun shots and dive behind the couch. "Shit," I shout, turning back Phil isn't there and my breathing goes as quiet as it can while fucking panicked.

A growl sounds and I frown. "Whoever the fuck you are I am going to kick your ass! This is not my good day."

"I'd say not, Donovan's are after you. Placed a bounty on your head, and I'm going to collect it, said something about you not playing their way," Willem.

That piece of shit.

More bullets fly, this time into the couch and I jerk upward, seeing him across the room I feel like I'm no longer in control of my actions as I fly at him, gun firing and the world red with rage.

Correction only two bullets fly and I'm certain the look on my face must be pretty stupid because Willem's laughing his ass off.

The wall hurts like nothing else when I'm slammed against it and breathing is hard when you're being held up against it like this. I kick my feet, looking down into his eyes.

"You took away my life," Willem hisses.

"Not...much of...a life..." I choke out, tears sliding down my cheeks. Reflex. I don't cry just because I might die.

Willem leans in and growls again. "Now I'm gonna take yours."

"I don't think so," Phil speaks from behind him, voice gravelly and gun raised.

My eyes snap to his and this time I do want to cry.

Three shots to the side, I can see the blood spilling out of him and he's barely standing.

"Game over," I rasp to Willem before Phil takes his shot.

Right to the heart and I resist the urge to scream as I'm dropped to the ground, now covered in Willem's blood and my own, registering Phil sliding to the floor and the door crashing open.

"What the hell happened?" Daniels shouts before darkness falls into my eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings: Contains graphic depictions of violence, horrific imagery, mentions of murder of a child. Also, horrible language

"Jeff better answer his goddamn cellphone or I'm liable to kill the kid myself," are the words I heard tearing themselves from Daniels' throat when my eyes finally slid open and it occurred to me how much my body hurts.

A whole hell of a lot, and I know that makes no sense grammatically speaking but gimme a break would you?

"J-Jeff," I forced his name from my lips, struggling to sit up.

"Whoa whoa, lie down kid," Daniels said before shoving my shoulder to get me to lie down.

"Don't call me kid, where the fuck is Jeff? What the hell happened?" I asked, struggling to get up again as the door to my room opened and Phil stepped through, arm in a sling.

"You should be lying down," he told me, a frown on his lips and his dark eyes filled with serious implications.

I sighed, touching my forehead that is bandaged, I don't remember hurting it. My throat felt raw, the act of swallowing a bit like trying to eat glass. I coughed softly and shook my head.

"Where is Jeff?" I demanded to know, thinking of him, thinking of how eager he'd been the day of joining the firm. A green kid with a desperate need to prove himself.

He'd changed since then obviously, we all had. But whenever I thought of him all I could think of were eyes bright with the thought of challenge and a faux angelic look as the filthiest of jokes spilled from pouty lips.

"We don't know," Phil finally admitted with a sigh. "Cell is on but he's not answering it, his stuff was in his truck outside your apartment but no one has seen or heard from him since he first arrived and called AJ."

"Shit," I cursed, wanting to do a hell of a lot more than that but someone sent the room spinning and I lay down again, closing my eyes as a brief wave of nausea spread through me.

"Shit is right," Daniels agreed, the sound of a match being lit causing me to open my eyes as the scent of sulphur hit my nose.

I shook my head carefully, "we're in a hospital dumbass."

Daniels smirked and blew out the match and something about the flame being snuffed out so abruptly shook me to the core, a cold feeling growing in my stomach. A ball of dread and I closed my eyes again, fully ready to ignore the feeling for the moment.

"I'm the dumbass," Daniels snorted, and I practically heard him shake his head. "You're the two fools who went into an apartment without thinking to listen first."

Memories flashed behind my closed lids and I opened them, willing them away for the moment. Willing away the moment of fear that always came with an almost-death. I'd had half a dozen at this point, one would think I would get used to it.

"There wasn't a sound," Phil insisted, his jaw clenched in anger and something dangerous in his eyes.

Daniels snorted, "yeah right, there's always a sound. Always an indicator. You just need to learn how to be not so fucking blind."

Phil bristled visibly, shoulders tensed and his back straightening so much it's amazing he didn't grow taller. "Fuck you Daniels."

Growling Daniels looked at him, "excuse you?" His voice is deadly soft, and although I knew I should diffuse this mini-bomb before it took out the whole floor of the hospital I couldn't help but watch.

"Li and I aren't fucking rookies, we know how to do our jobs and we do it cleanly," Phil told him, a growl in his own voice.

"Usually," Daniels snorted, shaking his head. "Not anymore. Li as you call her won't be returning to that apartment any time soon, not with your blood, hers and his spurted all over the fucking place."

"Spurted?" Despite myself the words left my lips and the images that flashed through my mind were no better than the memories. "What the fuck happened?"

Phil and Daniel both turned toward me, almost identical expressions of worry painted on their faces.

"You don't remember anything?" Phil asked me, his voice smooth, brow furrowed.

"I remember Willem, I remember gunshots," I responded, shaking my head. "I remember feeling like I was going to die."

"Not a nice feeling," Daniels pointed out, as though he was trying to be helpful.

"Yes, thanks Daniels," I bit out.

"He shot me, twice in the shoulder, one grazing my side," Phil replied, "I stood to see him strangling you, you looked like a fucking ragdoll, lying there all limp staring at him. Never seen you cry before by the way not since…" He trailed off, seeming to remember himself within moments. "I shot him."

"Is he dead?" I asked him.

Phil nodded his head. "You know it."

"How touching," Daniels snarked as he rolled his eyes. "You killed the bad man for your little girlfriend, but that doesn't change the fact that there are eight contract killers after her because apparently she doesn't play nicelywith the Donovan's."

The door opened and my brother stepped through, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

"Oh great, now big and blue is here," Daniels slipped past Hunter and out the door, slamming it behind him.

"That guy," Hunter shook his head and made his way to my bedside, looking down at me. "You look like shit you know."

"Wow," I said dryly. "Do you kiss Stephanie and your daughters with that mouth?" I asked him, arching an eyebrow.

Hunter smirked and kissed my forehead. "I need your statement."

"Ah so this is a fluffy family visit," I sighed, shaking my head. "You're such an asshole," I teased.

"Yep," Hunter nodded, pulling up a chair and flipping open his notepad. "Talk me through it."

"Phil and I went back to my apartment, where Jeff was meant to be setting up surveillance and we went in, well Phil went in and the world went white," I told him.

"Gunshots," Hunter confirmed, as Phil nodded.

"I dove behind the couch, and when I turned Phil was gone," I explained, "I dove for Willem and shot twice, I didn't hit him with either I don't think. He grabbed me and slammed me into the wall, held me there, told me about the twins, taunted me a bit and that was when Phil shot him, and I blacked out."

"That is all you remember?" Hunter asked me, arching an eyebrow.

"That's it," I nodded my head. "He told me they had a bounty on my head."

Hunter swore softly, closing his notebook. "This is a big deal," he told me.

"Don't have to tell me that," I responded bitterly. "I usually do end up being a big deal in some way or another."

Phil laughed softly, holding one hand up when we both looked at him. "Well it's true," he said.

"This came for you," Hunter pulled out a manila envelope, the padded kind used for parcels and tossed it on the tray over my bed. "No return address, want you to look at it, then I'll take it in for evidence." He gave me gloves.

I opened the envelope slowly, a note falling out.

I picked it up and began to read, "Four little piggies. The first mama piggy went to market, the youngest little piggy should have stayed home, the next little piggy got a haircut, and the last piggy won't never get home." I showed them the paper; registering a lump in the package I tipped it.

A scream tore itself from my throat.

Jeff's hair, bound up in blood red ribbons lay in front of us on the tray, parts of the blond clumped together in crimson.

"Jesus," Phil murmured.

Hunter grabbed my hand and held it tight, calling for a team.


End file.
